Once Upon A Rune Stone
by IggyLikesPie
Summary: Castiel Novak went to Sweden to research rune stones for his book on mythology and religions, he certainly didn't expect to go back home with a pagan god who wanted to be his friend. [[Based off of Diminuel's art and 'pagangoddean' blog on tumblr.]] [[Destiel.]]
1. Summoning Pagan Gods 101

Summoning Pagan Gods 101

Gazing down at the half-finished wooden sculpture, Castiel allowed himself a small smile.

He'd been saving up for the past few years in order to be able to go to east Sweden and study the old runes and stone circles.

His sister, Anna, had laughed and called him a nerd but Cas was excited to be seeing some of the objects he gave lectures about at the university.

His plane from Illinois had arrived earlier in the day, greeted by showers and a cool breeze but the blue eyed man hadn't minded; he was finally there and that was all that mattered.

Castiel had always been interested in theology and ancient history; to some it had been odd that a Christian, like himself, had wanted to study pagan gods but he had simply been fascinated with them for as long as he could remember.

Sitting down on the hotel's bed, Castiel studied the map that he had brought with him. The Huntæ circles were closest too him, with the largest being that of the Wienscheste family; the oldest family of gods in an exceedingly old religion.

This faith, in particular, had always fascinated Castiel. Its roots appeared to be Germanic but also linking with Norse, its following seemingly had spread across parts of east Russia, through Finland and to Sweden, relics having also been found in northern France and over the Atlantic in Newfoundland.

During his own time of doing his degree, he had visited the sites in Newfoundland as well as Finland and had simply known that this was the theology he wanted to focus on for his papers and dissertation; and now the book that he was currently perfecting, this trip being both for work and personal enjoyment.

Deciding that he would visit the Wienscheste circle first, Castiel folded the map and placed it on the night stand before regarding his small sculpture again.

The wooden figure was rough at the moment, but he reasoned that it wouldn't take long to perfect. At the moment, it was only a vague shape resembling Deån; god of homes and the hunt, eldest son of Mærie and Djohhn Wiescheste. The god's head was covered by the thick hood of his cloak which was also wrapped around his body, his hands hidden by long sleeves and leaving only his face visible. Flicks of hair were barely showing beneath the fur of the hood and his slight smirk was simply an etch on the surface at the moment.

Castiel considered painting it but chose to decide later, depending on how it went. He wanted to show the earthy colours associated with the god, though; the black of his eyes with green centres that were set into his tanned skin, the deep brown of his cloak and cream of the fur and the sandy, light brown strands of hair. Not to mention the dark tattoos across the bridge of his nose.

The jet lag had made Castiel's eyes feel heavy but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep yet so he opened one of the books he had brought with him and found the page with the image of Deån on and his title. Picking up the figure again, he began sanding it down and filing it where necessary.

This went on for a couple more hours before Castiel could feel himself falling asleep where he sat. After quickly changing and putting the old book away, Castiel glanced at the clock before climbing into the bed: 19:00, ah well, it looked like he was having an early night.

"_Gedvangal druxgongisgrapha_, Deån." he smiled, patting the small statue on his night stand; testing how the Enochian sounded, even if it was with his mangled pronunciation.

Castiel put it down to the low light and his sleep-deprived brain, but he swore, as he turned out the light, that the statue's smirk turned into an actual smile.

~x~x~x~

The next day was mostly spent sleeping and planning out his next week in the town whilst Thursday, however, was when he finally rented a car and drove out to the circles. It took him an hour and a half to reach them but Cas barely noticed; a small smile placing itself on his face for the entire journey while excitement tugged at his mind.

The Wiescheste circle was closest to the main road; only a mile walk from the small tourist hut next to the car park. The map then showed two different roots branching off, one went to the Kambeyl circle and the other went to Häreviel which had two other stones placed close to it marked at 'Schinga' and 'Vietzgerald'.

Each sign along the path was written in a number of languages and Castiel smiled a little at how he could read them all; he wasn't just fluent in dead languages, after all. The route through the trees had been dry, the clouds only pale smudges in the sky that were quickly being hurried along by the wind.

Along the way, there had been small picnic areas branching off of the trail, families beginning to sit down and eat at them.

It was just passed noon when Castiel arrived at the Wiescheste circle and, after glancing around him, he realised that he was the only one still around that particular rune site, the voices of a tour group fading as they disappeared between the trees lining the route.

First things first, Castiel reasoned, he'd place his 'offering' next to Deån's rune stone.

It didn't take much effort to locate the elder brother's stone: it was one of the largest, to the left of Djohhan's while Samuel's was to the right of Mærie's.

Castiel took his, now finished, carving from his pocket and compared it to the stone before him. The Deån carved into stone looked foreboding, his hood off of his head which was raised high and appeared to be staring down at Cas. In his left hand he appeared to be clutching a dagger whilst his right was curled around a jumble of lines that gave the impression that he was holding fire.

He then looked at his own carving. Deån appeared... Okay, _'cute' _wasn't exactly what Cas thought he should use for an old god but that was exactly how Deån looked, with his hands clutched in front of him and his head mostly hidden by the thick fur of his hood.

Castiel had ended up not painting the wooden sculpture and - although he knew it could be seen as a silly thing to do - had decided to leave it at Deån's rune.

The blue eyed man crouched and placed the figure at the base of the stone. "For you, Deån." He murmured, patting the small statue lightly.

A sudden clap of thunder made Castiel jump and he almost fell over but froze as he saw a hand beside him reaching for the figure he had just set down.

"Huh, it looks good." a voice said from just behind him. Turning slowly, he took in what he was seeing; Deån was holding the figure.

_Wait_, Castiel's brain screeched. _What?!_

**A/N: so much for 'I'm not going to write this until everything else is finished', huh?**

**anyway, this story is based upon Diminuel's wonderful artwork on the pagangoddean blog on tumblr, I seriously advise that you check it out.**

**thank you to infinitejellybean for beta-ing and getting me to the post it instead of just letting it sit around in my documents.**

**this is also posting on AO3 under the same name, LJ posting may occur in the future.**

**my tumblr is bakura-reads-yaoi, come say hi!**


	2. Light A Fire In My Name

Light A Fire In My Name

The other man looked up from the wooden statue, his smile freezing as he set eyes on Castiel. "Wait... Cas?" he gasped, as if in disbelief.

The man wore a thick, brown cloak with fur lining the front and hood, as Deån was often depicted as wearing. His hair was a light brown and spiked slightly in the middle while his eyes were black with green centres, his bottom lids being lined by green paint. The man had tanned skin with golden disks hanging from his ears, black stripes stretching over his nose and... freckles?

"You have freckles?" Castiel heard himself say, his mouth running ahead before his brain had time to catch up.

This... Deån-wannabe or whatever, however, was looking as if he were the happiest man on Earth.

"Castiel, you know I have freckles. Why do you sound so surprised?" he questioned, standing up and offering a hand to Cas to help him up as well. The man's voice was odd; it sounded warm and inviting but the accent seemed as if, somehow, the German language and Texas drawl had had a love child.

Castiel stood up without taking the man's hand and took a few steps away from him. "How do you know my name?" he demanded, trying to enforce some authority into his tone.

Seemingly confused, the other man began opening his mouth to say something but stopped. "Do you know who I am?" he asked but it did not sound angry, almost... sad, if anything.

"You look like you're dressed as Deån but he's not real." Castiel said cautiously.

The other's face fell. He lost his smile and his eyes grew large before he covered it up and smiled again but it seemed false.

"Allow me to explain then." he began, placing the statue back beside the stone. "You summoned me here, Castiel, using that statue. I know your name because it was you who summoned me."

"'Summoned'? You say it as if-"

He nodded. "As if I were a god? As if I were Deån?" he smirked.

Castiel turned away and ran his hands over his face, drawing in a shuddering breath. He was dreaming, that _had_ to be the answer! None of this could be real, it was freaking nuts!

"Are you okay?" he heard the other man (god?!) ask. When a hand came to rest in his shoulder he spun around and began backing up again.

"No no no no." Castiel repeated, waving his arms in front of him. "Keep away from me, okay? You're either completely nuts or I'm dreaming. Just- just stay over there." He was almost in the middle of the circle now, _Deån_ was still standing next to his stone looking forlorn.

Rubbing his eyes again, Cas doubled over and placed his elbows in his knees. "Ugghhhh, I have got to be dreaming." He groaned.

"Cas-" the other man started but when Castiel looked up to glare at him he closed his mouth quickly. A thought then seemed to cross his face and he scooped up the figure again and held it our to Castiel.

"Here, take this with you and summon me again you reach home." he smiled.

Castiel tilted his head in confusion as he took his statue back. "But how would I-"

"Summon me again? Simply light a fire in my name."

Cas considered this, turning the wooden carving over in his hand. "But... I'm in a hotel room, they wouldn't allow a fire."

When no reply came, Castiel looked up to find the circle empty again apart from himself.

Well, there went his normal day of being a tourist.

~x~x~x~

Castiel felt awkward.

He was standing in his hotel room with a packet of matches, a metal bowl and the carving.

There was no smoke detector in his room, which Castiel was oddly thankful for, and he had cleared a small area on the desk in the room. He placed the statue down and the bowl in front of it, a couple of matches in the dish and one left at the side so he could strike it.

Cas opened the old tome he had brought to the page about summonings and scanned the page, mentally translating the dead language on the page. There was a passage about summoning gods by placing an offering at a stone bearing their name and Castiel almost grimaced thinking _Been there, done that_.

The next section was summoning using a designated artefact and he tapped that page as he read it, mulling over the incantation. It didn't seem to hard: 'I invoke, conjure and command you, appear onto me before this circle' being recited in Enochian after the fire had been lit.

Shrugging, Castiel placed the book to the side and readied himself to have confirmation that he had been hallucinating earlier; there was _no way in Hell_ that this was going to work.

Cas lit the match and placed it in the bowl, the others catching fire easily and. beginning to burn. He began reciting the spell, palms open and up as the book had instructed and continued to chant until the fire had burnt out completely.

When the last spark faded into the ashes, Castiel lowered his arms. "See, Castiel, just a dr-"

"You called?" came a voice from over Cas' shoulder and he really, _really_ didn't want to turn around. Could he be hallucinating _again_?

Gritting his teeth, Castiel turned around to find Deån lounging back on the bed, still dressed in his furs and his arms behind his head while a smirk danced along his features.

Now Cas did grimace. "Oh God, you are real, aren't you?"

"Well, I certainly like to think so." Deån winked before looking around the room (and Castiel looked everywhere but at the god, now was not the time to turn into a freaking blushing 5th grader).

"Your home is very small." Deån commented, sitting up and throwing his legs over the side of the bed before removing his coat. Underneath he wore a green tunic tied with a thick, black belt and golden clasp. Around the neck of the tunic was golden material with an intricate pattern woven into into it in black while a black line circled his neck. He wore black trousers beneath the tunic and worn, brown boots with fur at the top of them.

Castiel was pretty sure that he started drooling when the god's arms were exposed. Tight black material clung to his muscled arms but still exposed half of his forearms and the black tattoos encircling his tanned wrists.

Snapping his eyes away from where the other man was inspecting the light switch, Castiel vaguely thought that, if he hadn't already lost all contact with his mother, she'd have cut him off now. Not only was he gay, but now he was checking out a _pagan god_.

He could remember clearly the day he had told her he was gay: he'd just finished college, had enough saved money to live by himself and, if he worked, to carry on studying. She'd shouted and screamed, called him a blasphemour and a heathen and that she never wanted to see him again.

His older sister, Anna, had turned her back on their mother after that also, helping him find a place to live and to carry on in education for which he'll forever be grateful.

As for their father, he had disappeared when they had been little. Mother had been stricter after he had vanished but she had always been devout to the point that it was scary.

Dean broke him from his thoughts by clicking the switch and gasping loudly as the lights came on. "So humans can do magic? Such small fires..." he smiled, seemingly awed, as he looked at the lamp on the bed side table that was now lit up.

"Not magic, Deån, it's electricity." Castiel said, sitting down in the chair beside the desk.

Deån turned to him with wide eyes. "I've heard of that! Such clever things have been created since I was last here. But still, why is your home so small, Castiel? And why is their no kitchen?"

The other man huffed a laugh. "This isn't my house, it's a hotel room. I'm here for a week and then I'm going back to America."

Deån came and sat directly in front of him in the bed. "The New World? What's it like?"

"Umm..." Castiel seemed a little unnerved by how excited Deån sounded simply by him mentioning America. "Its... Nice? I guess...? I mean, I've never really lived any where else so I can't compare it to anything."

"I'll find out for myself then when you summon me when back there." he states simply, propping himself up on his arms as he leaned back whilst his eyes drifted to the statue. "Wait, you are taking my figure back, correct?" he asked, suddenly seeming panicked.

Castiel still vaguely thought that he was experiencing some weirdly vivid dream but he felt the need to reassure him anyway. "Um, if you want me to?"

Deån smiled again at that. "Of course, I wish to know you better, Castiel." he said. "And what the rest of the world is like now, too." the god added after a beat.

Deån stood up again and went to the window, pushed back the curtains and peered outside. It was only just turning five so it was still light out; Castiel figured that the sun wouldn't set for a few more hours given that it was June, anyway.

"Can we go outside, Cas?" Deån asked, dark eyes flickering in the reflected lights from below.

The other man started a little. "Yeah...? I don't really know if anywhere will be open but, okay? Wait, you'll have to change too; you'll get some really weird looks if you go out dressed like that."

Deån tilted his head and seemed to consider this for a moment. After a few seconds he closed his eyes and clasped his hands in front of his chest.

"Deån, what are you d-"

"Shhh." the god hushed as a bright light began to pulse in his hands, causing Castiel to raise his arm to shield his eyes and turn away.

When he looked back Deån was dressed in worn jeans and his tunic had become an open green shirt over the top of a black T-shirt. The tattoos were gone and his earrings had shrunk down into simple, golden studs. Deån opened his eyes, however, to reveal that they hadn't changed. "Better?"

"Um, what about your..." Cas gestured to his own eyes and realisation dawned on Deån's face.

"Yeah, right, okay..." the god covered his eyes with the palms of his hands and when he pulled them away the black had gone from them.

Castiel wasn't a poet but he was pretty sure that he could have written sonnets in fifteen languages about those eyes.

The green had remained the same but, after seeing them set against black, they seemed to be considerably more striking. They weren't dark enough to be called emerald; if anything they were more hazel but that didn't stop Cas from wanting to just keep staring into them.

_No, stop it_, Castiel thought, mentally shaking himself. _If you end up getting an inappropriate, pagan-god-induced, morality-and-religion-questioning boner, I will kill you_, he threatened himself.

"Even better now?" Deån smirked.

"Y- Yeah, you look great." Cas assured him. In the back of his mind, he wondered how his trip had ended up so damn weird in such a short space of time.

~x~x~x~

As it would turn out, Deån had no intention of staying in one place for very long. One moment he was 'ooo'ing at a brass band playing beside the town's lake, then he was exclaiming 'Cas! What is that? Why is it pink and fluffy?' ('Its candy-floss, Deån.') and then it was 'What is a 'vegetarian'?'

Following Deån's line of sight, he saw a closed shop across the street hosting a sign saying 'vegetarian and vegan goods' in Swedish.

"Its someone who doesn't eat meat. Vegans don't eat anything that comes from animals." Castiel told him absently, looking back out across the lake at the small boats that were beginning to turn on their lights in the dusk; he'd barely noticed how long he had spent outside with Deån.

When no other question or excited statement came, Castiel looked over to find Deån staring at him in shock. "What?"

"They don't eat meat?" Deån repeated.

"Well, yeah. Some people choose to do it, sometimes it's religion, other times it's health reasons." Cas explained, not really understanding why the god was looking at him as if he had grown another head.

"But... But if they don't eat meat then... Part of myself is not needed. If there is to be no more hunt then large sections of my power would be lost." Deån looked back towards the shop now, his eyes wide and lips dipping downwards.

"Loads of people do still eat meat, Deån," Castiel reassured him. "I know a lot of people who wouldn't want to give up eating meat."

"And what about yourself, Castiel?"

Cas blushed a little and scuffed his shoe on the pavement. "Contrary to what many people would believe but my favourite food is cheeseburgers and if you took the meat out of that, well... It just wouldn't be the same."

When the blue eyed man looked back up, Deån was smiling at him a little before he was distracted by movement over his shoulder and was once again bounding down the street, intent upon discovering everything in one night, Castiel left to run after him: 'Deån! Be carefu- No, wait! Don't climb over that, you'll fall! No, _Deån_!'

~x~x~x~

By the time the two returned to the hotel room, Deån had discovered that, yes, gravity still works and can result in bruises, the lake is deeper than it looks, the town was larger than the small hamlet he said once stood there and that he had a number of foods that he would like to try.

Castiel was expecting himself to suddenly fall into a freak-out that included 'oh God, there is a pagan god right over there and he seems to want to be friends, what even?' but it hadn't come yet. In fact, he'd had a nice night despite the fact that they had done pretty much nothing but walk around, Cas occasionally explaining things to Deån who had listened with rapt attention.

If Cas let himself fantasize a little, it had felt almost like a date. He could barely remember the last time he had been on a date. He was pretty sure that it had been with that guy Anna had set him up with. What had his name been again? Chris? Carl? Cas couldn't remember, he could just remember the abysmal attempt at a 'date'; he outwardly cringed at the memory of it, he still couldn't go into that particular Starbucks without getting a few glares from the staff.

"Is something wrong, Cas?" Deån asked, noticing the other man's grimace. The god was back in his tunic, the illusion of his modern clothes having fallen away as soon as he had crossed the threshold of the room.

"Huh? Oh, nothing just... remembering something unpleasant." Castiel sighed.

Deån waved his hand in his direction as he sat down on the bed. "Let go of the memory; if it causes you grief then why dwell on it?"

Castiel raised an eyebrow at him. "Says you? They could have renamed you the god of 'angst and troubling backstories' by what the lore says about you."

Deån seemed to consider this for a moment, appearing slightly taken aback. Cas was about to apologise when the god broke into a grin and huffed out a laugh. "I suppose they could, I shouldn't be a hypocrite but you should let it go. Use me as a bad example."

"You said it not me." Castiel managed to get out before giving in to the yawn that had been building in his chest.

Deån was pulling on his cloak when Cas looked back at him. "You seem tired, I should probably take my leave."

Castiel felt awkward. He didn't want Deån to go but he couldn't ask him to say so it left something heavy over him.

"Are you going back to the rune circles?" the god asked after a small hesitation, seemingly fussing with the clasp of his belt.

"I was planning on it; I'm researching your faith particularly for my book and those circles are the largest concerning your religion."

Deån smiled up at him after that. "Then I shall meet you there tomorrow morning. Goodnight, Cas." He nodded and seemingly vanished in a shower of sparks and soot.

Castiel sat staring at where Deån had been standing for a few minutes.

If this was a dream - and Cas was pinching himself every other minute just to make sure - then he kind of didn't want to wake up.

**A/N: the second chapter of this that I will be posting today, enjoy! :D**

**once again, thank you to infinitejellybean for beta-ing and Diminuel for the beautiful artwork on the pagangoddean blog that I've based this off of.**

**also posting on AO3 under the same name, LJ posting (probably) in the future.**

**my tumblr is bakura-reads-yaoi, come say hi!**


	3. Stories of Old

Stories of Old

It was barely nine o'clock when Castiel passed the tourist hut.

Not that he was excited to see Deån again or anything. Nope.

The rain from the night before had left the ground beneath Castiel's feet sodden and heavy, the mud quickly clumping and sticking to his shoes as he followed the path to the Wiescheste circle.

The sky was overcast and dark, signalling that more rain would come later but Cas didn't mind; he liked the rain, it seemed to blot out everything else and he found it calming.

Due to the weather, there were fewer people along the track and in the area in general, or that's why Castiel believed they weren't there, anyway.

The blue eyed man had brought Deån's figure along with him in his bag but knew that he wouldn't be able to do anything yet when he saw a group of four people standing inside the circle, talking far too quickly in a language Castiel couldn't recognise for him to understand.

He was about to head back towards a lunch area and hope they would leave soon when a, now all- too-familiar, voice spoke from behind him.

"Heya, Cas." Deån murmured, walking around the nearest rune stone to stand next to Castiel. He was dressed in his modern clothes again, the once-fur coat now being shown as worn, brown leather.

Castiel gave him a slightly startled look. "But I didn't summon you." he stated.

Deån was looking over at the others in the circle as he replied. "Now that I've been summoned here this season, when the person who did the summoning returns I can willingly travel here to meet them."

"So you don't get around much?"

The god chuckled a little as he leant back against the stone. "On the contrary, Cas, I was quite the traveller back in the day. What about you?"

"Never really had the time, unless it was for educational purposes. I think I've seen more rune stones than some people have ants." Castiel sighed, leaning back against the cold rock also.

Deån turned to look at him then, green eyes still so jarring when surrounded by white. "I'm sure you'll travel someday, Castiel, I can just tell."

The rest of the day passed easily, with Deån recounting stories about the person on each rune stone; the pair following the path to some of the other circles as well.

Castiel knew that he wouldn't be able to use them for his book unless they were written down some where but he didn't want to ask Deån to stop when he seemed so excited to recount them.

Castiel's favourite had been when Deån was talking about his brother.

Deån's love and compassion for his brother was, quite literally, legendary. Large sections of the lore and folk tales spoke of how, after Djohann had set out of his quest to rescue Mærie from the clutches of Azazel, Deån and Samuel had been left in the world to fend for themselves resulting in them being incredibly close.

"... So I was sitting in the village, tending the communal fire," Deån was saying, grinning as he told the story. "When I heard this massive_ thwunk _so, of course, I zap straight over and what do I find? Sam, the stupid giant, has managed to knock over a tree 'cause he was leaning on it, trying to get his foot out from the well it was stuck in!" the god laughed, eyes lighting up as he looked up at the stone carving of his brother. "Course, he's managed to get his height power under control now but he's still tall; one of the Dæmon Lords even calls him 'moose'."

"I think I remember him," Castiel said thoughtfully. "'Krowrey' or something?"

Deån nodded, suddenly seeming serious. "Krowley, yes. He is not a Lord to be in league with. He is... cunning and treacherous in ways that other Dæmons could only wish to be. As the current ruler of the Hell plane and as he is now bonded to Abaddon, he is also so much more powerful."

"But, I thought Azazel ran the Hell plane."

"That was a long time ago, Cas. Things change even when nothing is written down in a millennia." Deån sighed. "Many of us fear The End is coming, Djohann is nearing the Ninth Circle and Azazel has dropped off the map. Even the Messengers appear wary, these days."

Castiel knew the lore of this religion's apocalypse - _Könctectt_ was how it was written, resembling both Swedish and Slovenian and translating as 'The End' - but hearing a god speak of it was something else.

The Messengers seemed to be like Angels in Catholic teachings, some sharing names with them too; Michæl (Mi-ckh-ay-el), Raphæl (Ra-p-fay-el), Gabræl (Gah-bri-ayl) and Lücife (Lu-key-fae) were the four Higher Messengers, each tasked with a corner of the globe to help communicate with the others - whether that be by sending letters, words, gifts or helping the travellers along their way - as well as protect while the gods were away from that area. If they were wary of something, then it truly was something to be feared.

The stories said that when Djohann reached the Ninth Circle of Hell, Mærie would be freed from her captivity and Azazel would be destroyed. Without its leader, the Hell plane would descend into anarchy with Dæmons roaming the Earth until Huntæ and Messenger could banish them all forever, bringing in the Age of Peace.

Once it had just been that; just lore and stories, but now, seeing a god who feared it may actually come to pass, it made it that much more tangible.

Despite what he was hearing, seeing, Castiel still believed in God but if the world were to end in one faith, would that impact others? Every apocalypse happening at the same time, almost like a domino effect? Was that even possible? Cas didn't want to know.

Deån sighed, tipping his head back for a moment before looking back at the stone with the carving of his brother on it.

"All that aside, though, it's a pretty good likeness of him. Granted, his hair is a bit longer now but they managed to get his stupid face right." Deån smirked.

Castiel glanced over to Deån's stone. "Mm, but I think they missed your ego off of yours." When he looked back, the god was pouting.

"I'm watching you." he grumbled, giving Cas a small glare but it wasn't that effective, given that he was still pouting.

~x~x~x~

By the end of the day, Castiel had been filled in with tales that had never even graced any tome ever written. However, Deån had also corrected some of his translations of books he had read and helped improve his spoken Enochian.

Deån had smothered a laugh when Cas had tried reading a sheet he had copied from a book back home.

"No no no, Cas; soften up your 'nach' sound a little, it's not a 'ch', it's more like a breathy 'h'. Like this _**nach**__-graphourhmed_." The god was trying to teach Castiel how to say 'hello' properly.

"_Nachgraphaourmed_". Cas repeated.

"You're adding an extra 'ah', Cas; nobody speaks like that any more. Think of it as... if someone were to talk like Shakespeare to you, that's sort of how adding that 'ah' sounds." Deån explained.

Castiel nodded and then frowned. "Shakespeare? But you-"

"We never completely disappear, Cas." the god smiled. "Sure, I've lost a number of my powers along with so many others, but I don't just _stop_. I know who Shakespeare is, and I like listening to _Metallica_, and that_ Titanic _was a sucky movie that this one particular Messenger hates."

"I never saw_ Titanic_." Castiel mused.

"Well, you're not missing much. People call it a 'classic' but it ain't got nothing on _Star Wars_. Now they're good films."

"I've never seen those either." Cas murmured and the god, although he would probably deny it, squeaked.

"How have you never seen _Star Wars_? If I've seen it, and I live in another realm, then how have you not?" he almost shouted.

"I don't know, I just... never did? I read a lot. I think Anna saw them." Classical literature had always appealed to Castiel more than overcrowded cinemas.

"I can't believe it; I even made Sam and Djess watch those films." Deån said, stunned and shook his head.

Deciding to move on from his knowledge of old sci-fi films, or lack there of, Castiel asked about the goddess Deån had mentioned. "What's Djess like?"

"Hm? Oh, Djess?" Deån looked back over to him and seemed to get a far away look in his eye. "Djess is awesome, she's clever and her flat cakes with chocolate are simply to _die_ for. Her and Sam are pretty inseparable and they can be quite mischievous when they want to, I have to tread carefully sometimes." the god told him, grinning to himself. "We met under... odd circumstances but I believe that she's settled in well within our realm."

Castiel could faintly remember the story of how Djess became a goddess, it wasn't one he had studied in depth but he had had to read it whilst doing his 'families and relationships' area of his studies. Frowning slightly, he tried to remember all of the tale. "Djess had been... killed, was it, and you took pity on her and brought her back?"

"Yes and no; her village had sacrificed her, trying to invoke my power. Either they didn't realise that blood sacrifices aren't my thing or they thought spilt blood would make me stronger or something." Deån sighed, tipping his head back. "I brought her back as soon as I realised what had gone on and I brought a little wrath down on those who had killed her but not much; just a mini drought, an immensely cold winter, that kinda stuff. Djess opted to stay with us, and her and Sammy? Well, they're just like peas in a pod, them two."

"What about you? Have you ever been a 'pea' with somebody else?" Castiel asked, forming the marks around the word. In the tales he had read, Deån had travelled a lot, taking bed mates often with either gender but there were a few stories that appeared half finished, or had had a name burnt from rune stones or the pages of an old book.

Deån's lips twitched at Cas' phrasing but he stared at the ground, face glum. "Along time ago, yes. They were... Awesome, and powerful, and so smart. I miss them immensely but they were taken from me." Anger seemed to creep into Deån's voice now. "Not long after Christianity began to spread did Krowley take over Hell, the war settled after a century of fighting to result in Abaddon becoming his Bonded, leaving a shaky truce between their factions.

There were... rumours of a Messenger who would destroy the Dæmon Lord and so, he managed to catch us by surprise, stripped the Messenger and his closest sibling of their Duties and cast them into the mortal realm. He burnt their names from our entire history before binding our tongues with old magick, making it so we can't even speak their names." Deån brushed a hand over his face, screwing his eyes shut as he did so.

"I saw the whole thing and could do nothing as my beloved screamed for him to stop. Krowley didn't simply take their powers, he toyed with them first, like it was some sick game. And I- I could do nothing. Now the Hell plane is more unreachable than ever, the hellhounds are becoming more active and I still haven't made him pay." the god growled, his eyes narrowing and reverting back to the black that they originally were.

Castiel was stunned into silence for a few seconds; other stories he had read were more gruesome, their descriptions making him feel sick just from the memory, but to have Deån sitting there, next to him, and reliving it all made it horrific in ways the other tales could never be.

Cas smiled gently at Deån and lay his hand on the other man's arm. "If they were cast into this realm, and not destroyed, then there's always the chance of finding them."

The god looked up at him then, eyes wide and almost vulnerable. "Yes, I suppose there is." he smiled.

The blue eyed man would never admit it, but he almost didn't want Deån to find them. It was selfish and he knew it; he'd never acknowledge that he'd thought it because if he did, then he'd have to acknowledge the thoughts and feelings that were beginning to play jump rope with his heartstrings.

**A/N: well howdy doodie, I have an update to share!**

**not much to say about this chapter other than an apology that the chapters for this don't seem to be as long as chapters for other stuff I write.**

**also, just a quick note, the Enochian 'sounds' used are adapted from the alphabet created by John Dee and Edward Kelley while names and other sounds use mainly German and Swedish pronunciations (umlauts and accents especially).**

**once again, this has been beta'd by the truly brilliant infinitejellybean; they can get me over any block!  
>some of my own plot did work it's way into here, but Sam's story is based off of an image on the blog.<strong>

**Also posting on AO3 under the same name [[LJ posting in the future, possibly]].  
>my tumblr is bakura-reads-yaoi! come say hi!<strong>


	4. Selfies? More Like 'UST Situations!

Selfies? More Like 'UST Situations'!

Before he knew it, it was the day before Castiel's flight was due to leave back for Illinois.

He wouldn't say he had 'wasted' his week at the rune stones with Deån as he had researched about the religion, just in a less orthodox way than he had expected. After all, Anna may think he was a 'nerd' but, Castiel would not swap talking to Deån for going through dusty, old books at the library.

Deciding that he had collected enough notes, Castiel took his camera in his bag along with his notepad; deciding to take a few pictures of the stones and their engravings, possibly of the images of the gods etched into them as well.

Deån was waiting for him at the Wiescheste circle when he arrived, hands in his pockets and a grin lighting his face when he looked up and saw Cas walking towards him.

"Hello, Deån." he greeted.

"Heya, Cas. Not too tired from obsessing over those stories, are you?" the god asked, a small smirk on his face: he had told Castiel the day before of when he had first been invited to an Olympian party and come away from it with an Amazonian ally and a daughter, Ermen (or 'Emma'); goddess of lost souls.

Castiel levelled the other man with a small glare. "I get a sufficient amount of sleep, Deån. Three cups of coffee also helps."

"Not a morning person then?" Deån asked as Cas began removing his camera from his bag.

"Not particularly. That is why I'm thankful that most of the lectures I give are during afternoon sessions." Castiel told him whilst turning on the silver camera, its 'ding' resounding through the morning air as it came alive.

Deån was staring at the camera with a confused look on his face.

"Its a camera, Deån, you can use it to take still pictures, and videos if you don't mind the quality being too bad."

The god's face lit up in a smile. "It is incredibly odd to hear of something and then to see it in front of you." he said, peering at the camera closely.

Castiel arched an eyebrow. "You're telling me."

Deån looked up at him and blinked before blushing lightly and standing back up to his full height. "Heh, yes I suppose you already understand that."

Cas flicked the flash off and lined up the carvings on one of the stones in the sight before snapping the picture. "So how come," he started. "That you know about films and modern music and things and yet you get fascinated by electricity and my camera, like you've never seen it before."

"Well, most things I haven't seen, at least not in person, so many things are fascinating to me. As for how I know about films and music, Messengers can travel much more easily through the realms and they bring things back with them: Balth brought back _Titanic_ and ranted all the way through it, Zeke introduced me to AC/DC, Gabe has all these new... _candies_ that he refuses to share, just stuff like that." Deån explained as Castiel continued to take pictures of the stories etched into rock.

However, as he moved onto Djohann's stone, he frowned slightly. "I don't remember Messengers by those names."

"Yeah, I don't really know what their names would be in your language now but they don't even use their own original names any more. Many of their aspects were adopted into other faiths and so they became one with 'Angels' or something. They use those names now, it's interchangeable but kinda confusing." the god was looking over his shoulder at the small screen as he spoke, his breath grazing Cas' ear. "Gabriel still goes by something akin to his original name, does the name _'Loki'_ ring a bell?"

"The Norse god of mischief?"

"Mmhmm, one and the same and he doesn't like to let us forget it. Especially Sam; they're pretty good friends really but his sense of humour is... well, it kinda sucks if you're on the receiving end." Deån laugh and, oh God, Castiel thought that _he_ had personal space problems! This was just distracting!

"I was named after an Angel; coming from a religious family, so was my sister." Cas mused, moving to the next stone, Deån following closely.

Deån hummed. "Christian, right? Castiel: Angel of Thursday and November, a Seraph - a _warrior_ - that sound correct?"

Castiel nodded. "And my sister's name is Anael, or simply Anna."

"Jewish, rather than Christian; an Angel of joy but yet another Seraphim." Deån nodded.

"Were there any Messengers who took our names?" Cas asked out of curiosity.

Deån wasn't in his eyesight when he answered, but Castiel could hear a dip in his voice and vaguely wondered what had happened to cause such a response. "There were, I was close to them a long time ago but... I have not seen either of them in a long while."

"Tell them 'hello' from me if you see them." Castiel said as he turned back towards the other man.

A small smile tugged at Deån's mouth. "I'll make sure to do that, Cas." He seemed to hesitate for a moment before gesturing towards the camera. "May I see that?"

"The camera? Sure." Castiel passed it over and then had to throw his arm over his face as Deån pointed it at him. "Deån, please don't."

"But I thought you took pictures of other people with cameras as well, or are there different kinds of cameras for that?" Deån's confused look showed as he, thankfully, lowered the camera.

"No, it's just- I'm not really a picture person; not really photogenic and it makes me feel slightly uncomfortable." Cas tried to explain and the god nodded once.

"Then may I take a picture of myself?"

The blue eyed man levelled him with a deadpan stare. "You want to take a selfie?"

"There's a different term for a photo if it is of myself?"

"Yeah, I don't really know where it started but there is now."

"Huh." was all Deån said before he was suddenly behind Castiel, the camera in front of both of them.

Cas tried to protest but the god quickly took a picture and skipped away from the other man, a large grin forming on his face.

Castiel glared and held out his hand. "Deån, give me the camera."

Deån turned the camera around and he could see himself and the god on the display; he looked slightly confused, but mostly horrified and was staring into the camera with wide eyes (so round it was almost amusing. _Almost._) while Deån all but had his head on Cas' shoulder, a lazy grin taking up residence on his features as he held the camera out in front of them.

"Oh, but Cas, you look so cute all surprised." Deån smirked over at him, holding the camera close to his chest.

Castiel felt his face flush and he took a step closer. "Deån." he tried to say in warning but he didn't believe it had much effect on an old god.

"Cas." Deån responded, still playful.

"Give me the camera." Cas said slowly.

"Make me." Deån grinned back, shaping each syllable carefully.

Castiel could think of a lot of things he could do to make the god shut up but- wait, when did they get this close? Castiel wondered, eyes going and wide and he was sure he would have to be the same colour as a tomato by now.

They were barely inches from each other, Cas could feel Deån's breath hitting his cheek and he would probably have been able to count every single freckles across the god's tanned skin.

Both of them seemed to realise their proximity at the same time and all but jumped back.

Castiel risked a glance over at Deån and saw that his ears were tinged pink but there was no way he had been thinking the same things as Cas, right? He couldn't possibly have been thinking of some of them because did dildos even exist when Deån had last been on Earth frequently?

The god held out the camera whilst rubbing the back of his neck. "You shouldn't delete it, Cas. It's a good picture. Or selfie. Or something."

The blue eyed man took the camera and looked at the picture still on the display. He'd had worse taken, he supposed. "I'll try not to hate it to-"

Cas cut off when Deån's head suddenly shot up, eyes returning to their usual colouring. The god spoke after a few moments but his voice was filled with urgency. "Castiel, I must take my leave; Ermen and Samuel are waiting for me; apparently Øliestair is leading an attack. I shall see you soon, I hope." Deån nodded to him once before disappearing and Castiel was thankful that the circle was empty apart from himself.

Deån had sounded serious about the attack; he'd try and find something on Øliestair when back home to see who, or what, it was the gods were facing.

However, Castiel also felt something crushing inside, especially when he looked at the camera's display. He couldn't fall for Deån, he simply couldn't. Not to mention that he was a _god _but also for the whole 'now-mortal lover' thing he had mentioned; Castiel simply couldn't set himself up for heartbreak.

"Keep it together." he muttered to himself, pocketing the camera. "Now is not the time to turn into a brooding poet."

**A/N: this seems like filler, really. I'm pretty sure that I just wanted to right sexual tension and happy fluff. if you're here for plot, I'm so so sorry.**

**beta'd, once again, by infinitejellybean who I fear may someday die because of all the fluff I send them...**

**Diminuel's blog is, as ever, completely perfect and you should really check it out if you haven't already.**

**also posting on AO3 under the same name [[LJ posting in the future, possibly]].  
>my tumblr is bakura-reads-yaoi! come say hi!<strong>


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